


The Towers up Above

by Mikibou



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coming of Age, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Hogwarts, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2018-12-09 11:09:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11667909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mikibou/pseuds/Mikibou
Summary: This is the story about a teenage girl in Hogsmeade, who dreams of a life at Hogwarts.





	1. A meeting

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Rose Walker” I lied. “What’s yours?”

“Nathan Abbott” he said.

There was a silence. Kind of awkward.

“So… what house are you in? I can’t remember seeing you around school.”

I looked at him. The air was warm, he wasn’t wearing a scarf or anything to indicate which house he was from. I couldn’t make the mistake and say I was from his house.

“No surprise, since we aren’t in the same house. It’s hard to keep track of all the students at school” I said with a laugh.

“Yeah, I mostly know Hufflepuffs, you know, since they are all in the common room. The rest is kind of a blur.”

Hufflepuff. Great.

“Yeah. I am a Ravenclaw but I barely know the people in my own house. Guess I am kind of a lone wolf.”

“Really? Doesn’t seem like that to me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I am hanging out here, by the Shrieking Shack, all by myself, on a Hogsmeade weekend trip.”

“Okay, I guess you are. I just wanted to say something nice.”

I laughed. “Thanks.”

“They say it’s haunted, you know that? Apparently the villagers can some nights hear noises from inside. Someone running around. Things breaking. That’s what I’ve heard, at least”

“Yes, I have heard about that.” I said, leaving out the fact that I haven’t heard a noise from inside that house during all my life, and neither have my mum. But we never tell the tourists that. “Scary stuff.”

“You reckon it’s a ghost?” he said.

“My guess is maybe a ghoul. Or a poltergeist. Ghosts aren’t very noisy.”

“That’s true.” he said. “This house must have been here for… years. Why don’t they tear it down? Get rid of the scary stuff.”

“It attracts tourists.” I said. “as do the view of Hogwarts, the shopping street and the fact that it is one of very few all-wizards villages.”

“At least that’s what I read.” I added.

“Would you like to join me to the Three Broomsticks?” Nathan said nodding down the path down to the village.

Yes, said my head, but I had to stop myself. I was silent for a moment. Was there any way I could go with him without blowing my cover. I couldn’t think of any way, except giving Madam Rosmerta a hint in advance. And it was no time for that. And besides from that, someone from the village could come up to me and talk. No, I couldn’t go.

“That would have been nice, but unfortunately I will have to pass. I… This is enough human interaction for today” I laughed. “No offence. Nothing… personal, I…”

“I get it. Introvert. Why do you think I walked away to this place, instead of shopping with my friends?”

“Yeah. Introvert” I smiled. “Will we meet again?”

“Of course, Rose. I’ll see you in the blur.”

He walked away, and I stayed, watching him go. Then I turned, leaned down to the fence and looked at the Shrieking Shack. I wiped away an uninvited tear, unsure of what provoked it. Happiness, from talking to someone my own age for the first time in years, or sadness that it had been years since the last time?


	2. A Lie

Rose Walker. 15 years old. Ravenclaw House. Witch.

Rebecca Collins. 15 years old. Hogsmeade Village. Squib. 

I lied, straight to his face. And it didn’t feel that bad. I sat down at my favourite place - a big rock a short walk into the forest above the Shrieking Shack. For about an hour I’d been walking around in the forest, but there would be another hour before the students started to leave the village and I could go home. I just couldn’t stand the Hogwarts students. I hated them. They were always so loud, and the streets were full of them during their Hogsmeade weekends. The shops were crowded, the pubs were hot and sweaty and not even my own home was free from the loud voices and laughs from the streets outside. I can’t think when they are around, so I always get out. Usually I just wander around in the forest or bring a book and sit here, on my big rock, and read. 

I am the only one in Hogsmeade who don’t like Hogwarts students. Everyone else love

them. All they see is happiness, emptied out shelves, curious and excited students and overflowed cash registers. I turned around, facing the Hogwarts castle. 

My thoughts went to Nathan. He had been nice to me. He wasn’t loud. My stomach felt like it was being dragged into a black hole. I had actually talked to one of them. He didn’t suspect a thing. To him, I was just like any other Hogwarts student. Rose Walker, Ravenclaw. No, I did not feel bad for lying. I felt free. Being someone else, just for a couple of minutes. I had been one of them, just visiting Hogsmeade, returning back to the great hall for dinner tonight. 

He would be looking for me, of course. And I wouldn’t be there. 

My mum was convinced I would be a Ravenclaw. I learned how to read when I was three years old, only by studying the books mum would read for me. When I started school, homeschooled like all the other children in Hogsmeade, my neighbour Mrs Murray had taken the responsibility to be my teacher, since my mother worked. One day when I sat in her living room practicing spelling she fell asleep in her worn out armchair. When mum came to get me she woke up and I had finished three chapters in my spelling book, all by myself. I loved to learn and was a quick study.. Soon I didn’t need Mrs Murray's help at all, even if I still went to her house to study. I became my own teacher and quickly learned how to make up problems, think through them and solve them. I mastered math, english, geography and science all by myself. 

“You are going to be a Ravenclaw, just like me,” mum would say. But I turned eight, and nothing happened. I turned nine, but there were no signs of magic. Not a spark. When I turned ten, we both gave up. We didn’t really talk about it, but mum gave me a book about squibs that had been dusting on our bookshelf for about two years. I guess she knew already. I was not going to Hogwarts, and that was that. 

But it’s okay. I survived. I laid down on the rock. The sky was getting dark. In about half an hour the students would return back to the castle and I would go down to the village. I had to prepare something for dinner, since mum had stayed at work today. I just didn’t know what to make. I sighed. 

What would Nathan do, when he didn’t see me at dinner? What would he think? I said I was a loner, so he could just assume I was not in the mood for dinner. Or that I ate in Hogsmeade before returning to the castle. And if he thought that, maybe he wouldn’t be too sad. 

Why would he be sad to not see me? We only talked for a couple of minutes. He would forget all about me in just a couple of days. I wasn’t important, just some Ravenclaw girl. Rose Walker. Loner and weirdo. 

Of course, I couldn’t give him my real name. When I turned eleven my friends all went to Hogwarts. After that they all seemed to forget about me. We say hi when we see each other on the streets in summer breaks, but no one ever stops to talk or hang out anymore. I guess I am not interesting anymore. But of course they would still recognize my name if some Hufflepuff boy started talking about me. And then everyone would know about me. A liar, a squib. A wannabe. 

I looked at my watch. It was time to go home. I could see the stream of Hogwarts students from here, returning through the iron gate outside the castle. I wasn’t going to cry again, one time’s enough. Let them return to their huge castle full of magical spells and wonderful food, I don’t care. I got to see my mother every night, and maybe tonight we would eat at the Three Broomsticks. Yes, that’d be nice. Then I wouldn’t have to cook. After dinner we would have butter beer and listen to today's gossip. It would be just the two of us, and it would be great. Who needs magic, anyway.


	3. A Nosey Teacher

“Evening, Becca” said Madam Rosmerta as a tiny bell announced my entrance into the Three Broomsticks.

“Good evening,” I answered walking towards the bar. I sat down at one of the bar stools. 

Madam Rosmerta's forehead reflected the lights in the room and strands of hair had escaped her loose hair bun. “Long day?”

“As always, Becca, long, tiresome but oh so wonderful.” She said, wiping a table clean.. “We’ve been crowded all day long. I barely had time for lunch. Do I look sweaty? I feel wet” she said, wiping her forehead with her arm. 

“Sit down, It’s my turn” I said leaving my seat. I took the damp cloth from her hands and went into the kitchen. 

I had been her plenty of times before. When I had nothing to do I usually helped her, and other shop owners, out. My favourite was Honeydukes. Partly because everytime I went I got to pick a treat from the shelves. I hanged the damp cloth by the sink and brought a tray out to the bar. I began collecting dirty glasses from the tables. Madame Rosmerta sat down and reached for the Evening Prophet. 

“Did you do anything fun today?” she asked as she skimmed through the paper.   
“I had a walk in the forest” I said. “Nothing special really” No way I was telling her about Nathan, or the whole village would soon think I was marrying him and moving into Hogwarts to live in his dorm. Gossip spread fast in Hogsmeade, and Madam Rosmerta loved to feed the fire. 

“Would you look at that” Madam Rosmerta said to herself.

“What?”

“Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes has bought Zonko’s”

“Wow, really?” I said. “That means Zonko’s can sell their products now? Or are they renaming it and turning it into a Weasley-shop?” The Hogwarts students would go crazy with excitement either way.

“‘It’s something we’ve always been interested in, and now we are finally going through with it,’ says founder George Weasley. ‘Zonko’s will still be Zonko’s, though, with it’s usual products. With the addition of some of our best stuff’. ‘We just want to make our products more available to the students at Hogwarts,’ adds Ronald Weasley, George’s brother and co owner of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.” Read Madam Rosmerta. “Wow, those boys are going far. Why didn’t Howard say anything? Not much of a talker he is.” 

“Cool,” I said. I wasn’t very interested in joke-products. Not since I lost all my friends. If i’d use them on my mum she’d haunt me forever. Speaking of which.

“What a surprise to see you here” mum said sarcastically as she entered through the door. Her black robe was wet.

“It’s raining?” I said. I hadn’t noticed. 

“Yeah, not to much thought” mum dried her robe with a flick of her wand. “So, what’s for dinner, Becca?”

“Golden, beer-battered cod and french-fried potatoes, with a splash of salt and vinegar, served with marrowfat peas, which has been boiled overnight and…” 

“Okay, okay. Could we have two fish and chips, please” mum said to Madam Rosmerta. 

“Coming right up. And butterbeer?” 

“Yes please” mum said as she sat down at a table. I finished clearing the tables and left the glasses by the sink in the kitchen. Mum had picked up the paper.

“Look, it’s about Hogsmeade!. Zonko’s..” 

“I know, it has been bought by the Weasley’s” I said.

“Interesting. Do you think they’ll come here? So we can spot some celebrities?” 

“Mum you’re so weird!” I said pretending to be very annoyed. 

“You’re the one to talk. ‘Golden, beer-battered…’ You know, as I was leaving my office, I thought ‘I wonder what Becca will cook for me tonight’ and then, I just knew. ‘No, she’s not going to cook today. She’ll wait for me at the pub’. So I went straight here and I was right. Isn’t that odd?” 

“Do I do this often?” I said, truly wondering. Maybe I did. 

“I guess we share the same brain. We’ve been spending too much time together” mum joked. I smiled but it hurt a little. She changed the subject, so I knew she realized it too. Yes, she was my best friend, my only real friend. 

“What did you do today?” mum asked as Madam Rosmerta put down our drinks at the table. I took a sip as I thought about my answer. It would be nice to tell her about him. But… No. I couldn’t tell her. There really was nothing to tell. If she knew she would somehow figure out who he was and embarrass me. 

She works at hogwarts, my mum. As teacher of Transfiguration. She’s been there all my life, I think. We don’t really talk about my early years, my dad and her life before me. 

“Nothing, really. Just walked around in the forest. Read a book for a while.” I said with a shrug. “And you? How was your day?”

“You know, going through essays on a saturday isn’t so bad. Especially when half of the students are in Hogsmeade. I don’t get interrupted by having to go teach a class, or students knocking on my door saying they accidentally transfigured their cat into a pot and can’t get it back.” she said sipping on her glass. “Although missing out on a whole saturday kind of sucks” she added. “We should do something tomorrow. Something fun”

Madam Rosmerta arrived with our food, and took place at our table. She didn’t ask if she was invited, because she always was.

“Oh this looks delicious, Rosmerta” mum said. “Now, spill the tea, I want to hear everything about my dear students.”

“Mum, you are so bad.” 

“Curious, my dear child, it’s called curious.” 

So Madam Rosmerta leaned forward and told us all about the teenage drama of Hogwarts. 


	4. A Helping Hand

I woke up to the sound of an owl picking at my window. I opened up a window and the owl landed on my desk. It had a small, uneven piece of parchment for me. 

“Becca!

Jim is down with influenza. Could you help me in the shop? 

Z”

I immediately put some clothes on and headed down for breakfast. After a cup of tea and some toast I grabbed a book I was currently reading and headed for Zonko’s Joke Shop. The shop was pretty small and crammed with stuff. The shelves went all the way up to the ceiling. Mr Zonko was currently restocking the topmost shelves with the help of his wand.

“Becca!” he exclaimed when I entered the room. “Glad you could come!”

“Glad to help” I answered.

“I am sorry to give you such a short notice but… A delivery is coming today and I’ll be buried in paperwork at the office before the merge with the Weasleys… Perfect day to have fever!”

“Don’t worry I’ll take care of the customers” I said. I had worked behind the desk three times before, and more often helped with other tasks. I grabbed a box from the desk. It was filled with Dungbombs.    
“Oh be careful with that!” said Zonko. “We once dropped one of those boxes, right before opening hour…”

“I’ll be careful” I said starting to restock the shelves. There was three hours before the shop would open. Mr Zonko took care of the shelves out of reach so that I didn’t have to climb anywhere. When we were done there was an hour left until opening hour.    
“So this was just the boxes we’ve been procrastinating… The delivery is coming at two o'clock. Could you guide them to the back room? It’s the new stuff, so I guess there will be some new bloke as well. I’ll be in the office if you need anything. And of course you will be paid for the hours you are here. Just tell me when you want lunch and I’ll cover for you.”

“Yeah, thanks” I said and sat down at the chair behind the desk. I opened my book, to get the time to pass quicker. 

The shop wasn’t very busy that day, only around thirty tourist, scattered throughout the day. Hogsmeade was very popular for tourists, one of few all-wizard villages. They wanted to learn about our history, look at views like the shrieking shack and Hogwarts castle, and visit the rare shops you could find here. Since most of them went to Hogwarts, Hogsmeade and it’s surroundings were nostalgic tot hem.  Like this shop. I looked around. They could really need some more floor space. Where would the Weasley products fit? It had been two weeks since we read about it in the newspaper. It was now the talk of the town. Most gossip was about Mr Zonko’s fortune. Some thought he would retire soon and buy a beach house on an island far far away. I hoped not, I would miss him alot. Although I didn’t know how old he really was. He had always been old. Even my mum said that. I didn’t think he’d ever retire, though. He was still alert and always had a smile on his face. He loved his job at the joke shop. A vision of my future appeared in my mind. I had years of experience from working and helping in shops. When I was older, I could work in one, and later open my own. A bakery maybe. Or a cafe. Maybe I could sell clothes, or books. I’d like that. My daydreams was interrupted by a memory from my last visit to Diagon Alley, two years ago. I was thirteen, and me and mum went to london during one weekend. We were strolling around, and after a while I noticed people were looking at me, in every shop we visited. After a while I realized I was the only child older than 10 on the whole street. When we went into the potion supply store the clerk commented with a sneer. “Why would you need these? These are only for witches!” We were buying a small cauldron and some ingredients for me. I had just begun learning some harmful potions (under supervision of my mother, potion brewing can be dangerous!). My mum tried to explain that people like me actually can brew most potions, since they don't need magic. The woman didn’t believe her. Mum left the supplies in the shop and dragged me out of there with anger. We never bought that cauldron. Potions didn’t seem fun anymore. I had been so isolated, I didn’t even know, at age thirteen, that Squibs were looked down on. I had read hundred of books, but none of them really explained it. I only knew one in about 100 people were born a squib, so we weren’t very many. It had never occurred to me we were a minority like all other minorities, and like most of them we were looked down on. 

A young man entered the shop. The bells above the door woke me up from my memory, He was carrying a big box and handed me a paper to sign, for a big delivery. It was a wand signature, so I had to get mr Zonko. The deliveryman left two dozen boxes for us, we didn’t even have any space in the back room for them.

“I guess I didn’t think this through…” Mr Zonko said, rubbing his head. “Where will I store all this? And where could I display them on the shelves?” 

“I think you need to reorganize” i said. “Have only a few numbers of each product on display. Some less popular things could be stored at the back, with easy access when someone asks for them? Then you could make  room for the new stuff on one wall, maybe?”

“I should have you come by here more often. I could use your perspective on things”

“I can help you” I said, visioning a display for the new products in the corner to the right of the door. “If you want, i mean..:”

“Oh, do you have time? That would be lovely. We’ll close the store for a couple of days, make it look nice and then we could have a little re-open-celebration. What do you think? I’m thinking pumpkin pastries.”

“Sure. I can reschedule my schoolwork for a couple of days.”

“Lovely!” he said giving me a big, warm hug followed by a pat on my back. “You’ll get paid, of course, for every minute of your work here. We’ve done enough for today. Tomorrow we’ll begin!”

I left the store feeling excited about the coming days. It had been a long time since I had felt so appreciated


	5. A Note

“I have some freshly baked gossip for you” my mum said that night as we sat down for dinner at the Three Broomsticks. Madam Rosmerta was just leaving our table but turned around at the word gossip. She grabbed a chair from another table and sat down. “I saw  _ the cutest _ thing today at work.” Mum continued. 

“Mum you spend too much time with teenagers, you talk like one.” I said rolling my eyes. 

Mum ignored me. “So on the big notice board just outside the great hall, I sometimes stop for a second just to see what’s going on inside the castle, some students are really full of ideas you know… Well anyway, today it was a note on a piece of parchment.” She took a sip from her butterbeer, looking at us with a smug face.

“Oh don’t leave us hanging” Rosmerta said and nudged mums shoulder. “I never get too old for this.”

“Well, it was a note. It read something like this:” she cleared her throat. “Rose! Are you avoiding me or am I going blind? Been forever since I saw you and it’s driving me nuts. Can we meet at the same place as last time? You know the date. N.”

“You memorised it?” Rosmerta laughed. 

I put down my butterbeer trying to figure out what emotion I should show. I let out a laugh that was just a couple of seconds late. No one noticed. “What do you think it means? Kind of cryptic”.

“Oh I know. Some sort of code language the kids are up to. ‘You know the date’”. Mum laughed. “So cute though. Young love, desperate.”

Someone wanted to see  _ me _ . Someone wanted to spend time with  _ me _ . Someone who was not related to me. Someone my own age. It had been years. I had to save my thoughts for later, to be deep in thought would be suspicious. “Very” I agreed. “He sounds a bit insane”. 

“I wish I could see it, the meeting and…” 

“Mum that’s just scary! Imagine having a secret meeting, and then looking over your shoulder just to see your Charms teacher staring at you, through a pair of binoculars! Munching on some fizzing wizbees!” 

“You’re the crazy one” mum said messing up my har as she pulled me in for a hug.

Rosmerta went to get our food while mumbling to herself. 

“So what have you been up to today?” Asked my mum.

I told her about my day at Zonko’s and that I would be working there for a couple of days.

“You know what? I am so proud of you. Getting yourself a job like that!” she stood up to put a kiss on my forehead. “You’re a real business woman!” 

“Thanks” i said, blushing. Truth be told, I was proud of myself as well.

 

We returned to our house after dinner. Mum cuddled up in the sofa with a book. I headed for my room and sat down by my desk. It was just below the window, with a clear view of the castle. A dream view which had turned into a nightmare, a reminder of what I would never have. Tonight though, my mind was conflicted. I looked up with a warm feeling in my stomach. Someone wanted to be with me. Rebecca Collins. Well, actually, Rose Walker. But there was hardly any difference. I had been distracted for a while, almost forgetting about it, but now… I had to make a decision. It wasn’t that hard really. I knew the next Hogwarts trip would be in 9 days from now. I would be there. Not too early, but right when he got there. Hide for a while maybe? I knew this was the start of something big and complicated. But I was not scared. A little nervous, yes. I never did stupid things. This could be very stupid, but also an open window into something new. I stood up and started making a plan, walking back and forth in my bedroom. First of all, I would need a fake wand. 


End file.
